


Hold Me Now

by merelypassingtime



Series: Meretricious Melodies [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Based on a song, Cheesy, Eighties Music, Ficlet, Flagrant over use of song lyrics, Johnlock Roulette, M/M, Sherlock (TV) Season/Series 04 Fix-it, so very cheesy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-03
Updated: 2017-05-03
Packaged: 2018-10-27 06:23:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10803567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merelypassingtime/pseuds/merelypassingtime
Summary: As all the great people are wont to do, Sherlock finds expression for his feelings through classic eighties music.





	Hold Me Now

**Author's Note:**

> This is a warning: If you suffer from lactose intolerance or high cholesterol you had best avoid this ficlet. It is pure and unrepentant cheese.

Things were still tense, still wrong between the two of them and Sherlock had begun to fear they would never be right again. There was too much hanging in the air of 221B these days, years of lies, of separation, of things unspoken. He was almost sick with the effort of just drawing all of it in with every breath.

Even on an evening like this, with a case recently solved and Rosie upstairs asleep, the peace was flawed. John was sitting just a little too tensely in his chair, his hands too tightly clutching the book he clearly was only pretending to read. For his part Sherlock could not settle down, his usual post-case energy refusing to dissipate. 

And suddenly the silence was just too much for Sherlock to bear anymore. For a giddy second he found the words he had been repressing for months dancing on his lips. He almost just blurted out, “John, I love you. I have loved you years. Please, please can you love me back?” before he managed to swallow them back. Instead he did something almost worse. He walked over to the music stand near the window and took out his violin.

He could feel John's attention center on him, giving up any pretense of reading, as he tightened his bow and rosined it. As he prepared to play for the first time in John's presence since his wedding Sherlock wondered if this was a good idea. Even given John's observable predilection for eighties music he knew this was an awfully roundabout way of expressing the feelings crowding his heart. Unfortunately it was also the best way he had come up with to let those feelings out for at least a time with some chance at later undeniably. 

Slowly he drew the bow across the strings, producing a clear ringing note. He quickly transitioned it into a series of shorter, softer notes, using quick sharp finger taps against the body of the violin for percussion. For such a seemingly simple song it was still a lot to coordinate coming from one instrument and he was so intent on playing it correctly that at first he didn't realize that when he had come to the starting place for the lyrics he had begun singing them, his voice low and barely audible over the violin. 

_I have a picture,_  
_Pinned to my wall._  
_An image of you and of me and we're laughing and loving it all._  
_Look at our life now, tattered and torn._  
_We fuss and we fight and delight in the tears that we cry until dawn_

He almost stopped singing before the chorus but the need in him to finally say these word to John was too powerful to be contained. His voice breaking he pleaded with every fiber of his being.

_Hold me now, warm my heart_  
_Stay with me, let loving start, let loving start_

The dark night outside the broken sanctuary of their flat turned the window he stood in front of into an imperfect mirror of the room behind him and Sherlock watched as John stayed rooted to his chair. He closed his eyes to the sight and felt a tear trace its way down his cheek. Still he continued.

_You say I'm a dreamer, we're two of a kind_  
_Both of us searching for some perfect world we know we'll never find_  
_So perhaps I should leave here, yeah yeah go far away_  
_But you know that there's no where that I'd rather be than with you here today_

Sherlock had not known before he started how painful it would be pouring out his love to an unresponsive recipient. His fingers stumbled on the strings and he started to let his bow arm drop, abandoning the song. A hand rested lightly on his arm, holding it up and in place with only the smallest hitch in the music. A warm presence settled behind him, adding a tenor harmony to his deep voice and singing with him. 

_Hold me now, warm my heart_  
_Stay with me, let loving start, let loving start_

Hearing John's voice coupled with his own proved to be too much for Sherlock and hope and happiness seemed to catch in his throat leaving John to sing the last verse alone.

_You ask if I love you, well what can I say?_  
_You know that I do and if this is just one of those games that we play_  
_So I'll sing you a new song, please don't cry anymore_  
_And then I'll ask your forgiveness, though I don't know just what I'm asking it for_

This time when Sherlock broke off playing John didn't stop him. Instead as he lowed the violin John used a gentle hand on his shoulder to turn him away from the window and pull him into a tight embrace.

For possibly the first time since before his faked death Sherlock was able to draw in an easy breath, knowing everything was right.


End file.
